SEBASTIAN POV
I pushed the door open, dropping my keys onto the table with a metallic clink.
The lights in the hallway were dimmed, and the soft silence wrapped around me like a blanket.
I expected Sasha to appear around the corner, maybe with that half-smile she usually reserved just for me. But tonight, there was nothing.
“Sasha?” I called, half expecting her to tease me from behind a door or saunter in with that sparkle in her eyes.
But instead, the silence stretched on, indifferent and cold.
In the living room, I found her curled up on the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket, her eyes glued to a book she was holding with uncharacteristic intensity.
I watched her for a moment, my chest tightening as I caught the rigid line of her shoulders, the barely concealed frown on her face.
Something was off; it had been off ever since I’d come back. But every time I tried to reach out, she pulled further away.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice low as I approached her. “You didn’t even hear me come in?”
She looked up, her gaze flicking over me with a hint of indifference before she returned her attention to the book. “I heard.”
That was all she said. I let out a small sigh, easing myself onto the other end of the couch. “Sasha, are we going to keep doing this?”
“Doing what?”
I looked at her, willing her to meet my gaze. “You’ve been distant. You barely talk to me anymore. You’re… you’re acting like you don’t want me here.”
She snapped the book shut, finally looking at me with a hard expression that took me by surprise. “It’s not that simple, Sebastian.”
“Then make it simple,” I replied, leaning forward, the frustration slipping into my voice.
“I came back, and I thought… I thought things were finally moving forward for us. We’ve been through so much, Sasha. What’s changed?”
She looked away, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I said, my voice softening. “Let me understand, Sasha. Please.”
But instead of opening up, she just shook her head, her face unreadable. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
The words stung more than I cared to admit. Sasha and I had faced so many battles together, crossed lines that could never be undone. And now… now she was pulling away, closing herself off like a door slamming shut.
The rest of the week passed in a similar fashion. Every night, I’d come home, hoping that she’d be ready to talk, that maybe she’d open up.
But she kept her distance, and slowly, the tension stretched between us until it was palpable, an unspoken wall growing taller with each passing day. She stopped sleeping in our bed, instead slipping away to the guest room.
And no matter how much I wanted to follow her, to shake her until she told me what was going on, I held back.
On the seventh day, as I stared at the ceiling in our empty bedroom, I realised I couldn’t keep doing this. I had to confront this head-on, even if it meant risking everything.
I found her in the kitchen the next morning, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She looked up as I entered, her expression guarded.
“Sasha, I got invited to a party tonight,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
She raised an eyebrow, her mouth a thin line. “Okay.”
I hesitated, watching her carefully. “I’d like you to come with me.”
Her gaze softened for the first time in days, but only briefly. She looked down at her coffee, her fingers tracing the edge of the mug. For a moment, I thought she’d say no, that she’d turn away like she had every other time I’d tried to reach out.
But then, she looked up, meeting my eyes with a quiet determination. “Fine. I’ll come.”
The word was so unexpected that it took me a second to process it. “You… you will?”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Why not?”
The drive to the party was laced with a tense silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the soft sound of Sasha’s breathing.
I stole a few glances at her, taking in the way she had dressed with her usual elegance, her expression as enigmatic as ever.
We arrived at the event, a sprawling mansion lit up with chandeliers and laughter spilling out from the open doors.
As we walked in, I placed a hand on her lower back, but she subtly shifted away, and I felt my jaw tighten.
“Sasha,” I murmured, keeping my tone low. “Can we at least pretend we’re here together?”
Her eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place, hurt, maybe, or frustration. “We are here together,” she replied coolly. “Aren’t we?”
It felt like every word we exchanged was carefully measured, weighed down by the unspoken tension between us.
Inside, people were laughing, couples moving close to each other, drinks clinking as they toasted to whatever excuse they’d found to celebrate. But with Sasha, every step I took felt like walking on a razor’s edge.
I finally pulled her aside, the noise of the crowd fading as I looked down at her. “Sasha, please. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Her eyes flashed with something sharp, something I hadn’t seen before. “You really don’t get it, do you, Sebastian? Do you ever think about the things I’m dealing with? The things you put me through?”
The accusation in her voice struck deep, and I felt my own anger rising. “I’ve always been there for you, Sasha. Every single time you needed me, I was there.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” she shot back. “You think just being there is enough, but it’s not. Not anymore.”
I took a deep breath, struggling to hold back the words that threatened to spill out.
“Then tell me what you need from me. Because right now, I’m standing here, trying to understand, and all you’re doing is pushing me away.”
For a moment, her expression softened, the walls she had built cracking just enough for me to glimpse the pain underneath. “Maybe I just need time,” she whispered, almost to herself.
I felt a surge of frustration, the helplessness gnawing at me. “I don’t want to lose you, Sasha. But I can’t keep guessing what’s going on in your head. I need you to meet me halfway.”
She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. “Maybe I will,” she said softly, before turning and slipping back into the crowd.
I watched her go, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest.